


A S(MASH)ing Future

by justalittletragic



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Anne Shirley Realizes Feelings For Gilbert Blythe, Declarations Of Love, Eavesdropping, F/M, Fortune Telling, Oblivious Anne Shirley, One Shot, Sort Of, Valentine's Day Fluff, gilbert is so in love, parlor games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:00:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29328924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalittletragic/pseuds/justalittletragic
Summary: Anne didn't have a chance to visit the fortune teller at the fair, but is fascinated by the idea of being able to predict ones future. Josie may not have a crystal ball, but she has a cousin in Halifax who knows of a game, MASH. It's just a bit of fun, isn't it?**Basically, I was re-watching AWAE and got to the fair episode and thought Anne's excitement about the fortune teller was just real cute. And I don't get to be with the boyfriend for Valentine's day, so I have some pent up affection. Thus, this was born.Winnifred does not exist in this story, and Billy is not a horrible cad and didn't do THAT THING to Josie (I can't write it, it makes me too mad, this is a fluff ONLY zone). Also I know MASH did not become popular until the 1950s, but I figure that a cute plot trumps logic and historical accuracy.
Relationships: Diana Barry/Jerry Baynard, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Ruby Gillis/Moody Spurgeon MacPherson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 79





	A S(MASH)ing Future

"Oh Diana, can't you just imagine it? Delving into unknown, being surrounded by spirits, conversing with the universe itself? And having it speak back! Wouldn't you just love to see a glimpse of your future?"

Avonlea was in full summer bloom. The warm glow of the June sun was made soft by the vibrant foliage, turning the forest that Anne and Diana waltzed through into an emerald palace. A soft breeze danced between the trunks, delivering the faint scent of Anne's favorite flowers. How she adored the start of summer! It brought the brilliance of the world into sharp relief, everything seemed to be bursting at the seams with life. There was possibility and adventure in every twig, petal, and stone. 

And of course, with summer came the county fair. It was always such a thrill to see the new wares and contraptions, and to see the baked goods and vegetables that people had brought from across the island. Anne had been hoping to see a red, first place ribbon next to her Mary cake, but alas, her dreams had been thwarted by a head cold and a mislabeled bottle of liniment. Failure and embarrassment had left a bitter taste in her mouth, and it was only the marvelous hot air balloon ride that had rid her of it.

But the thing that had captured her attention most of all was the fortune teller. Oh, the possibilities that could come from such a thing! Getting to see the adventures that awaited her, getting to revel in her bosom friends’ future happiness, and maybe, just maybe, getting to see whether her deepest wish had been granted. The chance that she could be loved, to get to be a part of an _us._ Wouldn’t that just be the most delicious part of it all?

As if she had read Anne’s thoughts, Diana sighed dreamily before replying, “I suppose it would be nice to see who we will end up marrying, but that might take away from the excitement of it all. Or, what if knowing the future causes us to make decisions that we otherwise wouldn’t have made, and ends up messing everything up?”

“There is no reward if there is no risk, my dearest Diana. What would be the point of an adventure if it didn’t excite the soul and broaden your horizons?”

“You’re right Anne, as usual. Besides, I already know the most important part of my future.”

“What is that?”

“That you and I will be best of bosom friends for the remainder of our days, no matter the distance or whatever life may bring us.”

Anne smiled lovingly at her most kindred spirit, and grabbing her hand, the two girls raced through the woods, laughing the whole way.

**

The topic of fortune telling was brought back up again during the newspaper meeting. The class had been deciding what aspects of the fair to include in the article, and Anne couldn’t help herself.

“I think it would the most romantical thing, to get to see your future husband,” Ruby gushed enthusiastically, sending a dreamy look Moody’s way.

“Not only that but getting to see where we would be living and how many kids we would have!” Tillie exclaimed.

“Well, I already know that my husband will be rich and extremely handsome. I will have three children, two carriages, and more dresses than I count,” Jane replied matter of factly.

“And what if the man you fall in love with is poor, but adoring and kind and hardworking? I would rather live in a one room house that was full of love, than an enormous manse with someone that didn’t care about me,” Diana said with a slight blush across her cheeks, as if she knew _exactly_ who she would like to share a one room house with.

“Well, I know a way to predict the future, without a fortune teller,” Josie said with a smirk.

All the girls immediately turned to look at her. Josie sat up a little taller, reveling in the attention that her words had brought her. She tossed her curls over her shoulder before answering the unsaid question that filled each girl’s eyes.

“It’s called MASH,” she said simply.

“MASH? How does it work?”

“MASH stands for Manse, Apartment, Shack, and House. You fill out your prediction sheet with all sorts of categories, like your future husband, your future number of children, your job, anything you want. Three options go in each category – two that you want, and one that you don’t. Then, at the top of the page someone draws a spiral until you tell them to stop. They draw a line through the spiral and count up the number of times the line intersects. Then, you count through the sheet and each time you reach the number, you cross out the option you land on. At the end, your future is revealed.”

The girls muttered excitedly to each other. Anne couldn’t help but think that Josie’s method didn’t sound quite as mystical as the fortune teller, or as potentially accurate. If she was going to learn about her future, she would rather do it by laying in the middle of a beautiful meadow, with the night sky full of start dancing above her, the moon casting an ethereal glow, and she would whisper her questions to the heavens, and listen as the earth would seem to sigh the answers back to her. Still, it did sound fun, and more harmless than some of the other games that Josie had concocted over the years. She caught Diana’s eye, who seemed to have come to the same conclusion as Anne. Grinning, they joined the huddle with the other girls.

**

Gilbert was relaxing, reading the latest medical journal that Dr. Ward had let him borrow. His article on the vegetable competition was complete and was being edited by Miss Stacey in the other room. The article itself was pretty straightforward, just a brief overview of the entries and who had been declared the winners, but he made sure to include Matthew’s marvelous radish, and how it had worn its title of ‘Most Unusual’ with pride. He thought Anne would enjoy that.

Speaking of Anne, he had noticed that she, along with the rest of the girls, had given up on working on the newspaper, and had sequestered themselves into a corner at the back of the room. Anne wasn’t one to pass up an opportunity to share her worldview with the rest of Avonlea; whatever had captured her attention must have been interesting indeed. Gilbert felt a small smile form at the edge of his lips – how he loved her. The fair had been more eventful than he thought. After the cake judges had proclaimed the Anne’s cake tasted like liniment, and she had run, he found fighting back tears in front of the Tunnel of Love. Which was fitting, he thought, since it was her love that he had been chasing for quite some time. He tried to console her, stating how Mary would have found the whole situation hilarious, and making a few uncomplimentary remarks about the judges. She hadn’t walked away from completely happy, but she had stopped crying and was trying not to smile at his antics, so that was a win in his book.

A fresh round of giggles erupted from the girls’ corner. Gilbert leaned further back in his seat, under the pretense of needing to stretch, hoping to catch a bit of the conversation. He knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop; it was the height of rude, but he was curious. And besides, did it really count as eavesdropping if he just wanted a chance to discover something more about his Anne? She gave so little away, distracting everyone with her bright attitude and jubilant outlook on life, so that no one would look too closely and notice that sadness and secrets hidden below the surface. Gilbert could only catch a few words: _fortune telling… mash_ or _smash?... options…husband?_ He sat forward with a thud. If he didn’t know better, he would say that the girls were trying to predict their futures, especially with regards to their future husbands. Gilbert knew that there was no way for someone to tell the future, but still couldn’t stop from imagining how it would feel to have his name appear next to Anne’s.

**

Josie went first. Her paper was headed with M-A-S-H in big block letters and spaced evenly along the paper were her categories: husband, children, job, and transportation. She then handed the paper off to Jane, who began drawing a tight spiral in the top corner until Josie called out. Josie then proceeded to count and cross off the choices until she was left with her answer: she would marry Billy, have four children, get around in a wagon, live in a shack and work as a seamstress.

Encouraged by Josie’s fortune, or lack thereof, the other girls quickly began drawing up their own prediction sheets. Ruby would indeed marry Moody and live in a manse with their three children; Tillie would marry Paul F; Jane would have a carriage, but a house not a manse. Anne looked over to see Diana smiling softly down at her paper – circled were the words ‘concert pianist’, ‘four’, ‘wagon’, and under the Husband heading, the name ‘Jerry’. Anne’s heart swelled with happiness for her friend. Diana more than anyone deserved happiness and her dream life. Although why she would be happy with _Jerry_ of all people, she had no idea.

Anne returned to her own paper. Three of the categories had been filled in relatively quickly. There were so many occupations that she wanted to try, it was hard to just pick two, but she eventually settled on teacher and writer, with maid as the ‘bad’ option. Not that she had anything against maids. It was just that after all her years in service, she didn’t think she could go back to working in someone else’s house without the bad memories invading. In her mind, there was no such thing as a bad number of children, although she supposed it would be awfully lonely to be an only child, so she put that down with a sensible four and an exuberant seven. Imagine her with seven children! She had a similar thought regarding the transportation category – something was better than nothing, and even then, she enjoyed a pleasant stroll. She chose a carriage and a wagon like the other girls, and felt a secret thrill go through her as she put down ‘motorbike’ in the last slot. Yes, overall, she was pleased with the choices she had put down.

But there was one category that was troubling her. That dreaded Husband column. She could easily put down three names of boys that she _didn’t_ want to marry, but two boys that she _did?_ Suddenly, she remembered her promise to Cole, that they would marry if they could not find their true loves. How could she forget! She quickly wrote down his name in the first slot, feeling slightly better. Just two to go. After some internal agonizing, she put down Charlie’s name below Cole’s. Since he had posted for her and walked her home after dance practice, the other girls would expect to see his name on her sheet, and a small voice whispered that maybe Josie was right, and that she wouldn’t be able to attract anyone else, so she should be happy with Charlies attentions.

One name left. Anne would be kidding herself if she didn’t admit that there was one name that had popped into her mind immediately after writing down ‘Husband’, but from either fear or pride, she couldn’t bring herself to put it down. Her thoughts about Gilbert had gotten very muddled ever since that dance practice. Whenever she allowed herself to remember that day (which was more often than she cared to admit) she could feel how his eyes seemed to peer into her soul, and how good her hand felt in his, and how when he pulled her closer to his side, she could almost _hear_ him saying that he wanted her. Mr. Darcy indeed. She hadn’t been able to answer Diana when she asked if she had a crush on Gilbert, but what if that warm feeling that grew in her stomach every time she thought about him meant that she did? What if putting his name down would allow the universe to grant her wish? What if he was her destiny?

Before she could change her mind, Anne wrote down his name, putting secret hope into each pen stroke. Immediately, she began to draw her spiral and count the intersections, spurred on by the growing feeling of warmth in her chest. She methodically counted and crossed off option after option, trying to tamp down her excitement every time she counted past Gilbert’s name.

Finally, the last choice was circled, and Anne stared down at the paper in her hands.

Huh.

**

“Do you mind if walk with you today?”

Gilbert turned from collecting his coat and hat to see Anne standing before him. She was radiating confidence and there was laughter in her eyes, as if she knew something that he didn’t. He was immediately intrigued.

“Of course, lead the way,” he said, holding the door open for her.

They started down the path towards the Blythe farm. Anne seemed to radiate energy, glowing from the inside as well as from the sun’s warmth.

“Did you have a good time during newspaper club today?” she asked.

“I did. Miss Stacey said that my article on the vegetable competition was informative and jovial. She particularly enjoyed the bit I put in about Matthew’s radish.”

“That’s wonderful. You really are a marvelous writer, Gilbert,” she said, before directing a brilliant smile his way, causing his heart to pound in his chest. What was happening?

“Thank you. What about you? You and the girls seemed to be up to something exciting today. Care to share?”

“I would, actually. We spent the afternoon communing with the fates and predicting our futures.”

“Really?” he had been right after all, “How did you manage that?”

“Josie showed us how. It really is just a silly game, but sometimes even games have a way of revealing the truth.” She shot him another smile. His breathing was starting to become a bit erratic.

“Oh?”

“Would you like to see my prediction?” she asked, reaching into her bag and pulling out a folded piece of paper, “I must admit, I was much more satisfied with the results than I thought I would be. I would like your approval though.” She held out the paper to him.

Trying not to let his hand shake, he reached forward and took the paper from her. They had reached the forest and the trees seemed to tremble with anticipation. Gilbert could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Looking down, he unfolded the paper and began to read.

He read it once, twice, three times. Each time, more and more thoughts entered his mind until he thought he might collapse from the spinning. Could this be happening? Could Anne really be implying what he thought she was? His vision seemed to tunnel until all he could see was the paper and Anne. His Anne, who was standing there expectantly with a shy smile on her face. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure which of the million of questions to ask first. He settled on the easiest one.

“Y-you want a motorbike?”

Anne’s laughter filled the air. “Yes, exactly like Miss Stacey. Although I will admit that it might be difficult to transport seven children on a motorbike. I suppose we will need a wagon as well. For family trips.”

Gilbert let out an incredulous chuckle. She said _we._

“And everything else? You’re okay with everything else that’s on the list?”

“Yes Gilbert,” she said as she slowly closed the distance between them and encircled his wrists with her slender fingers, “I would love to have _everything_ on that list. If you’re okay with that, of course.”

It was like a dam broke inside of him. He surged forward, breaking her grasp on his wrists, placing one hand on her cheek on the other wrapped around her waist bringing her closer. And he was kissing her, delicately and passionately, and he let every ounce of love and adoration he had felt for her in the last three years pour out of him. He felt her relax into the kiss and he pulled her even closer. One of her hands reached up to cling to his shirt front while the other tangled itself into his curls. With every movement of his mouth, he tried to declare that _of course_ it was okay, it was more than okay, it was the thing he had dreamed of since the moment she broke that slate across his face. It would always be okay.

At last, they broke apart, both breathing heavy. Anne glanced up, her eyelids heavy and her lips swollen and dark pink. Gilbert had thought there was no way for Anne to be even more beautiful, but her she was, looking absolutely resplendent wrapped in his arms. She smiled dreamily up at him.

“I take it you’re okay with that then?”

“More than okay, Anne-girl.” He brushed a lock of hair out of her face, and his attention caught on the piece of paper that he was still holding in the other hand. He held it out and smoothed out the wrinkles.

“Can I keep this?”

“Why?”

“Because I would like to have physical evidence that I was right about us being destined for each other. And so that I make sure that you get everything on this list.”

Anne threw her arms around his shoulders a pressed a kiss to his lips. “You are ridiculous, Gilbert Blythe.”

“I’m yours, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.”

**Author's Note:**

> And that's a wrap! I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it. Sorry if the end seems a little rushed. I severely underestimated how long this would take to write, and the ending was going to be a little longer, but when I got there I thought short and sweet would be better. I know it might feel a little OOC for Anne to be so confident with her declaring her love, but I was channeling the S3 ep10 vibes where she's racing back to the boarding house to tell Gilbert how she feels. 
> 
> The little "you're ridiculous/I'm yours" bit was inspired by my boyfriend. Whenever we're texting and I tell him he's silly or crazy or ridiculous, he always responds with "yours". 
> 
> Also, halfway through this I realized that I didn't know if apartments existed in the 1890s. I googled, and apartments, or tenements, were common in large cities like New York or London by then, so while they probably didn't have apartments in Avonlea, I'm assuming they had at least heard of them.
> 
> Finally, for all of you who have read my other work 'Deeply and Emphatically', I promise I am working on the next chapter! This idea just popped into my head and I couldn't work on anything else until I got it down.


End file.
